The last years of my twenties were spent living in a three storey communal punk house. Man, that sounds so nice. But it was a nightmare! (You already guessed that, right?)

I won’t go into how it was awful—I’ll save that for other cards. No, I want to concentrate on something that was magnificent! This is about the Empress afterall, yes?

When I moved in, the tiny backyard was overrun with hip deep weeds. Where the weeds weren’t growing—tenants past had changed their car’s oil straight onto the ground! There were 4 feet wide hardened/slimy oil slicks in at least three different areas. There was trash everywhere.

It was a mess!

Blah.

Didn’t matter, though! I wanted a garden soooo bad and I was gonna have a garden. All my housemates were busy with other things, so my partner and I spent the Summer clearing out all the huge scrap metal and weeds and debris. We put in a fire pit and compost bins. I fashioned flower pots from abandoned tires and made trellises from old bed frames.

I made it lovely.

Then the next Spring, I started seedlings and while they grew, we gathered up scrap wood and made raised beds. We kept and sold aluminum cans for money to get good quality soil. It took a year of planning and working but we got it done.

I was so proud. This was my first attempt at growing things on this scale, where I was ultimately responsible. I was worried I would be crap at it, but nope—it was awesome!

The whole process was beautiful. I would water my thriving garden every other day, if it hadn’t rained—a quietly potent meditation. The house’s compost went back into the veggies I grew for us all to eat. Even the ground somewhat healed from the abuse it had suffered beforehand. I showed neighborhood kids where food came from and they ate their fill on snowpeas and cherry tomatoes right off the vine.

We ate okra and squash and radishes and all sorts of yummy veggies. We had fresh herbs and flowers. We even had a watermelon one year—no small feat for Minnesota!! The butterflies and bees danced among the morning glory blooms and the squirrels stole my tomatoes!! When the harvest was in in late Summer/Fall, I made pickle relish, canned tomatoes and peppers, dried herbs, saved seeds for the following year and on and on.

I had myself a phenomenal garden for four great years!!

From trash to treasure. The bounty was endless.

In the decade since, my need to nurture and grow things has taken other forms, but that garden will forever be a source of joy and pride!!!

Walking with a close friend, on our way to cheap pitchers at the bar. All bundled up. Thankful for the stretches of shoveled sidewalk, gingerly crunching through the bits that no one had bothered with. Head down, checking for icy spots.

It was quite far, walking, from our houses to the destination, so we had plenty of time to shoot the shit. Conversation always sounds different through cold air, covered ears and multiple layers.

I had spent the last year having fun. Traveling Europe—one punk festival to the next, living with friends, working part-time but making more than enough, weeks packed with basement shows and house parties.